


Sayf Allahab (Sword of Flames)

by biotic_raptorian_angel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-30 15:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biotic_raptorian_angel/pseuds/biotic_raptorian_angel
Summary: How Fareeha lost her right arm, and forever obtained a crack in her impervious armor.





	1. Chapter 1

Golden beads bobbed about as the soldier bounced her head to the guitar solo of her favorite song, the music belting out in her ears from the tiny earbuds. Stopping at the doorway to the armory for a quick solo of her own, hands mimicking the motions of an air guitar. Bouncing on tip toes into the room before twirling once at the end of the song, fingers pulled at the buds once she was standing before the locker with stenciled lettering.  
'F. AMARI: RAPTORA'  
Twirling the key ring on her pointer finger, soft hums of the just ended song filled the silence as clicking sounds caused her to smirk. Once the tumblers of the lock moved and the key turned, the door swung open to reveal her full Raptora suit, spare plates, gel suit under armor and the best part, her rocket launcher.  
Today was the day she finally got to test the three new rounds R&D had been building. Caressing its cool metal with strong fingertips, a swift move had it twirling in the air and landing in her palms. Holding the launcher always made her feel strong, in and out of her nearly indestructible suit, but her favorite part was feeling it kick back at her. There was a bit of a give and take when it came to handling the launcher, needing to be loose enough for precise aiming and quick movements, but strong enough to hold it firm as each rocket flew across the air. A perfect balance as needed when handling any firearm, but more so in her mind with her precious launcher.  
Propping it over her shoulder, the free hand grabbed up her gloves and range glasses before shutting the locker. Turning on her heel and now heading off towards the firing range, she popped back in one earbud to mouth the lyrics to her next song. Paying no mind to the other soldiers passing by,a grin curled her lips when she saw her testing crew standing by with large crates of each new round she was to test. Hopping forward to nod as each member saluted, the launcher finding its way off her shoulder and now to lay across the table.  
“Well guys. Let's start off with a few normal explosive rounds, then maybe we can try those napalm MIRVs we designed.”  
Running her fingers through that ebony hair of hers, a hair tie around her wrist was twisted into it, creating a small ponytail holding back every strand aside form the beaded ones. Slipping her strong hands into the gloves, she wiggles the fingers tighter in before tugging at the velcro straps to fasten them in place. Next were the yellow range glasses, her FALCN AI logging her personal information into the HUD of the lenses, circles whirring to life in view as each one locked onto a calibrated location of the test targets on the firing range.   
Without looking, her right hand found itself wrapped around a cylinder clip of six mini rockets, brightly painted with red tips. Slapping it into the receiver chamber, gripping the underbarrel and handle grip, her finger teased at the trigger. Darting those caramel eyes around to her test team, each one nodded in confirmation of safety protocols having been taken on their parts. Soft beeps rung out as her gaze moved back down range, gripping the launcher with gloved hands before a golden circle spun in view and without a warning there was smoke from the barrel. A second later the test target was nothing but a smoking and shattered chunk of wood, a grin forming on the woman's lips as another left the barrel to the next target. The same process followed with quicker succession as the clip of rockets was emptied into unsuspecting wooden targets.  
Ejecting the skeletal round clip, she looked to the dark whisps of smoke rising from the launcher's barrel.  
“How about we try those napalms this time? I wanna see some fire on those bad guys.”  
A chuckle resonated among the group as Berke stepped forward with the newly painted six round clip, each tip now adorned with black. Gripping the clip with her left hand, she allowed FALCN to scan each round carefully to receive its information before clicking it into the chamber. Raising the launcher again to her shoulder, her grip was tighter this time for the first round as to compensate for any additional blowback the propulsion might create. With a deep inhale then a slow exhale, her finger squeezed the trigger. A bright flash of light blinded her view, then a incredible pain shot through her hand, arm and right breast.   
The casing for the mini MIRV wasn't of proper thickness to contain the napalm enough away from the fuel source of the propulsion system built into each one. This error in design had caused all six rounds to combust and engulf the soldier's arm and chest.  
Launcher falling to the floor and bloody screams filled the range as Fareeha desperately flung her arm about, falling to her knees as brown eyes blew wide with the view of blood, burnt flesh and all of her arm now laying in mangled pieces in front of her. One of the crew mates had grabbed up a jacket and tossed it over her arm to begin snuffing out the fire, but it was already too late, the woman had passed out from shock and now fell to the ground fully.  
An alert had sounded which called the medical team to the designated location, which happened to be the firing range just in the next building over. Cause for heightened concern flashed across Angela's blue eyes as they settled on the name in red. 'Capt. F. Amari' Rushing to the med bay, her blonde curls swayed and bounced as she donned blue rubber gloves, gathered up nearby emergency supplies and held her breath for the woman to arrive via emergency crews.  
Rushing the Captain across the building, her lifeless body was half covered by the jacket to hide her arm, or lack there of from both her site if she were to wake and from onlookers. But once they burst through the swinging doors, the EMT pulled it off and Angela's eyes went wide, tears burned at their corners as hands curled into fists. But she knew her mind needed to focus, to be that of a doctor not of a friend or lover. She needed to objectify the situation and once that switch was flipped, she began to bark out orders to her assistants.  
Rolling Fareeha over to the operating table nearby, the full extent of her injury came into view under the bright spotlight above them. Mangled strips of skin dangled off the table, muscles shredded, cauterized from bleeding any further thankfully. Her entire arm up to where the humerus meets the glenoid had been blown off, sharp cracks at the edges of bone from what she could tell was a sizable explosion. Skin was charred along the mangled end, across her shoulder and bleeding slightly across her right breast. Ordering for IV fluids, pain med injections and third degree burn dressings, she began the work of prepping the actual operating room for surgery, all of the muscles, skin and bone of her arm needed removed entirely. She knew it would break the soldier far more than anything, but her arm was gone and the best Angela could do was get her prepped for a prosthetic to be made to keep her in active duty. Scolding a message to an assistant to call Chief Engineer Lindholm, the young doctor rushed off to make the preparations needed for the surgery. She only hoped that Fareeha would survive the injury and the aftermath that followed.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha wakes up after losing her arm and Angela has the displeasure of of breaking the news to the young soldier.

Fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of tireless surgery to clean away all the damaged flesh, cut down shattered bone and mend as much as possible to save the shoulder socket. Two hundred and seventeen stitches. Forty eight surgical staples. Twenty seven vials of nanite healing serum. That was what it took to save Fareeha's life. And in Angela's mind, every bit worth it.   
The doctor looked on as Fareeha had begun to come out of her drug induced slumber. Soft blue eyes looked upon the woman's drowsy face before they darted to the bandaged shoulder, tears threatened to well up, but she stayed strong for Fareeha and held them back. The images of the soldier laid out o the operating table still burned deep into her mind as a soft whisper escaped parted lips.  
“Mein liebe.”  
Reaching out a delicate hand to rest on Fareeha's, she squeezed it softly with sadness burning into her very soul.   
Brown eyes half lidded as the soldier's grip on Angela's hand gently tightened, but quickly shot open with fear as their gaze moved to lock onto the missing right arm. A sign of panic set into the soldier's eyes as that grip turned white knuckled , tears streaming down her cheeks as disbelief set in.   
“What happened...”  
Her eyes shot to Angela, their gaze piercing straight to her soul as the angel moved to sit next to her on the bed.  
“Your rocket launcher's napalm rounds exploded. The explosion mangled your arm and the napalm burned what was left so badly that even I couldn't save your arm. I'm so sorry liebe. I did the best I could.”  
Blonde locks fell to her face as she diverted her gaze to Fareeha's left hand, squeezing it tighter and watching as her own tears fell to land on the blanket. What was she supposed to say? There was no hiding how bad things were from Fareeha, it was best to lay it all out right in front of her. The younger was strong willed and Angela hoped that strength would hold steady as the moments passed, but as she dared to look up, the woman was sobbing softly into her left shoulder.  
Closing her eyes the instant her mind realized what had happened, tears ran down her cheeks as her chest shuddered with soft sobs. How could this happen? She had so much of her life ahead of her and this has put all of that to a halt.  
“How...How am I supposed to protect all of you now?”  
The words jarred the young doctor's attention as her brow furrowed, even after what happened, she still feels that magnetic need to protect those around her, even at the cost of herself.  
“I've already spoken to Torbjorn about building you a prosthetic, that way you can stay active duty and be able to keep flying. Give it time liebe, your wings aren't gone, just in need of upgrades.”  
Caramel eyes stayed half lidded as Angela's words never settled into her mind. Instinct kicked in as her hand pulled to allow her to sit up, falling into the chest of the blonde as tears flowed more freely into that black sweater.  
“I'm so sorry Angie. I've failed my duties here. I've failed you. I'm so sorry.”  
Her voice trailed off into sobs as Angela simply wrapped her arms around the poor woman, offering any sort of warmth and love she could in this moment.


End file.
